


Mutual Agreement

by FriendlyStalker



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Angst, Arranged Marriage, Caesar's Legion, Canon-Typical Behavior, Dirty Talk, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Humor, Partners to Lovers, Porn With Plot, Post-Fallout: New Vegas, Public Sex, Shameless Smut, Unsafe Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 22:47:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29908224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FriendlyStalker/pseuds/FriendlyStalker
Summary: The celebrations begin at Fortification Hill after the Legion won the second battle of Hoover Dam. While there is still a lot of work to be done to secure their hold on the Mojave, Vulpes and the Courier fall back in the midst of the revelry and "discuss" what the future holds for them.
Relationships: Female Courier/Vulpes Inculta
Comments: 4
Kudos: 14





	Mutual Agreement

**Author's Note:**

> A shameless excuse of a smut to indulge in lore that could have been, which takes place after the events of Fallout New Vegas, following a forthright courier with a legion ending.
> 
> This is a take on of Courier Six with 10 Charisma (Ironically favoring not to get blood on their hands).
> 
> Again for this one, it's mostly from Vulpes POV. It seems I like seeing my couriers from another perspective.
> 
> Obvious trigger warning since it's the Legion we are talking about.
> 
> Also pointing out english isn't my first language, so sorry if anything seems a bit off :)

The son of Mars sat once more on his chair. His apprehension was gone, like the messenger whom had just come to deliver the word of their victory at Hoover Dam a minute earlier. The men present in the tent reveled at the news, as Caesar's smirk emanated nothing but confidence as he basked over his triumph. After these many years of preparation, he finally had the new capital for his empire... And his rubicon. At his side, Vulpes simply smiled and silently rejoiced over the fruits of his labor. While the NCR had been taken care of, they would yet have to march upon New Vegas soon. That would be the fun part. From his many visits, the absence of a single authority reigning over the place with Mr. House's death, it would be more petty squabbles than actual battles. Within days, all the city's tribes would either be enslaved or assimilated and only a few lucky ones would become Legion subjects. Caesar had already decided the fates of each of them based off the frumentarius intel. Yet again, the sheer look of betrayal would be drawn on the faces of those who thought themselves forgiven of their degeneracy for egoistically helping the Legion. Those were the moments that Vulpes truly cherished. So would end the conquest of the Mojave.

A praetorian walked in, awaiting in position for the right to speak. Caesar granted it with a finger motion.

"We have a centuria coming into camp," stated the guard. "With a few Khans and captures."

"Good. Any word from the Legate?" inquired Caesar.

"None, Caesar. But the courier walks with them."

Their leader raised a brow. He appeared genuinely surprised, before laughing it off and urging the man to bring them to him. Truthfully, Vulpes also thought Caesar sent off the courier at Hoover Dam with the intent of them not coming back. It was obvious she was no warrior, aside being a woman. She was gifted with words and subterfuge, but never in a thousand years she would endure the regimen of a soldier nor run straight on an open battlefield. Had she been born a man, Vulpes would have vouched for her to be one of his frumentarii. She was after all, trusted to either bring his numerous messages of deaths or offers of alliances and did it effectively. Caesar trusted her with all of this, thanks to his own and his men's observations of her doings previously across the Mojave. No, if she was truly still standing, it was in fact with a missing limb or she managed to be furtive in her approach. And so once more, the courier was the bearer of good news.

Lucius went to Caesar's side, opposite of Vulpes and ordered his men to stand in line behind. They saluted the centurions that walked inside, who did the same before stepping aside, and leaving the way for the guest of honor. The frumentarius assumed she must have thought over her entrance prior, because it would without a doubt bury the talks of the Burned Man and take its stead. Strikes of dried blood she clearly tried to wipe away judging by the drenched scarf wrapped around her neck nearly covered her face, accentuating the white of her eyes. These last ones did not avert from the son of Mars, as she made her way to him decisively. In her cupped hands she held what appeared to be a bloodstained NCR flag, inside which something was evidently wrapped up. The closer, the more gruesome it got. From the flag dripped more blood unto her already soiled boots and jeans. Vulpes studied her thoroughly and toke notice of the number of men who were obviously awestruck even under their helms and goggles. He couldn't blame them really, after such a fight most would still be hot-blooded and ready to partake in their spoils of war as soon as the formalities would be over with.

"What do you deliver me on this day, courier?" Caesar asked solemnly.

"A message from Legate Lanius," she announced. "And one for the NCR."

With one hand, she slid a side of the flag to reveal the severed head of who could be no one else but General Oliver. The last he saw her stare that coldly had been in that very same tent, as she offered Benny the same luxury he did her. Staring into his eyes as she shot him point blank in the head with her own pistol. It had greek etched on its length slide. One she still carried at her hips this very moment and chose as her weapon to scourge the Mojave with in their name. Poetic really, considering whom gave it to her. The facial scar the degenerate provided her with made its way from her eyebrow to her hair, adding to how fierce she looked in the instance. Caesar smiled wickedly, very pleased by this offering. The demonstration claimed further tribute from the men present, but she kept a facade, remaining stoic and humble to all of it.

"Someone rid her of this profligate's head, it belongs on a pike!" he ordered rather impulsively. "And give her something worth carrying."

Lucius stepped forward, sliding his hands under hers to seize the flag and remains of the general, carrying it back to one of his men to do the rest of the task. Instinctively, or rather because no one else would have dared, Vulpes toke down one of the Legion's flag that hung from the tent's sheet and paced to the courier. Unintentionally, he found himself in her line of sight that did not deter from Caesar as he dropped the fabric over her shoulders instead of her bloodied hands. He felt her shaking for a brief second, before she realized his intent and consequently lowered them. She quickly remedied to that and tried to ignore him, although they wouldn't break eye contact. Vulpes knew something was off. She was trying not to show weakness... Such a reaction reminded him young legionaries after their first actual battle. More fluids apparently dried in her hairs, tied to the side in a bun in which he swore he saw tiny pieces of guts stuck in. His observations were interrupted as their leader spoke once more. He quickly went back to his side.

"As befitting it is for you courier to be the one to deliver me this offering, I must ask what keeps the Legate busy."

"Lanius remains at the Dam with the Red Okie Centuria, overlooking the crucifixion of the captured NCR soldiers," she answered promptly. "He said he wanted them to look over the West, so they could see their world die."

For a man who deemed him disgraceful in his methods, Vulpes thought the Monster of the East had similar tastes when it came to sending messages.

"So they will," said Caesar, quite amused. "But for now, you are to be rewarded for your services."

Her hands clutched the flag that draped her as she knelt duly to the man. She only stood back up when motioned to, accepting the golden coin Caesar honored her with.

"The first one of many," he explained. "It will be distributed in the wasteland."

She toke a quick glance at the coin, hardly hiding her surprise to see her own face, that of a woman, on Legion currency. She simply gestured her thankfulness and straightened up.

"True to Caesar," was all she ended up replying.

The men followed her lead, repeating and saluting back.

"Vulpes will show you to your tent. Get some well deserved rest. Vale, courier."

With the formalities at an end, the men scattered and went back to their posts. As ordered, the frumentarius walked up to their honored guest. A faint smile drew on her lips when he raised his arm, inviting her to go first. He escorted her to the exit, but was halted by her hand atop his arm when he slid his fingers through the tent's flaps. Puzzled, he turned to see her frozen, staring through the small opening. It was as if the entire camp, plus the centuria she came back with had gathered outside.

The young man allowed himself to contemplate her. The moonlight beamed through the small gap, gleaming on the bloodstains adorning her face. She didn't protest as he reached to touch her, sliding her hairs behind her ear, exposing further the renowned scar. Her attention deviated from the red mass to the soothing and proud expression he bore.

"Show it without shame," the legionary told her.

Vulpes was looking closely at her the day she walked in the Tops. He wasn't entirely surprised to see Benny bolting out, who had himself surrounded by his guards for days since he heard news of the courier coming out of her grave since it was broadcasted all over the radio. His surprise was rather, considering all of it, seeing the courier coming out of the casino alive. The frumentarius sincerely questioned that day whether the courier was unkillable or if Benny was the greatest fuck up of an individual he ever came across. He could have intercepted the man, but then the courier wouldn't have made her way spiteful and broken to Fortification Hill, where she was served her revenge on a silver plater and served Caesar ever since.

"Ready?" he asked lowly.

She nodded earnestly in response. The moonlight gleamed onto their champion as she stepped out to her public. Humbly, but assuredly, she made it to the edge of the hill's elevation as they were greeted by the loud chants and salutes coming from below. The way she presented herself, weary but undefeated, emblazoned with the golden bull evoked vehemence from the legionaries. Even Vulpes omitted for a moment the fact that a woman symbolized their new victory and was being revered by them all. His own eyes were enthralled by her newfound gracefulness as she began so softly yet sternly addressing the troops.

"Legionaries, the conquest of the Mojave is at an end. The blood you've spilled and tributes you have gathered pleases Mars and his son. The two headed bear saw the sun set on these lands for the last time today. Tonight, feast and enjoy yourselves for tomorrow the bull will walk on New Vegas and bring new tribes under its banner!"

He had learned from following her on the Strip that she was indeed, better at settling her fights with words. Regardless of it, she still had arisen to a symbol like Lanius did, but of a different branch. Fear wasn't her weapon. Sermo. Loquella. Speech, was hers and with it she helped them achieve victory. Vulpes could feel it within the ranks. It brought an odd sense of hope after years of war mongering. Once control would be asserted over the city, Caesar would attain his Pax Romana. A period of peace, for civilization. Even if for a few years... Some legionaries would for the first time in their life, know something else than training and violence. The soldier wondered himself if there was any of that left within him.

"In hoc signo taurus vinces. Ave Caesar!"  
 _Under the sign of the bull you will win. Hail Caesar!_

All saluted back and the celebrations were officially initiated at her call for revelry. The men started scattering around, engaging in the feast prepared by the slaves and gathering around the arena, where would be sealed the fate of many of the prisoners they had taken by dawn. Only after calmly waiting for the very last one of them to lay eyes off her, did she face away from the camp to realize Vulpes still had his set on her. The courier let out a chuckle at the soldier, who kept his front.

"I'm still under the order to bring you to your tent, Six."

"Vulpes," she gently sneered. "Let us go then, so you can join in the celebrations yourself."

This was just the beginning of the night. Vulpes toke a deep breath, taking in the cold night breeze as he observed the number of bonfires being lit across the camp. The courier followed in his footsteps as they slowly made their way further downhill. While both no longer had their birth names, she at least had the luxury not to remember hers. When she admitted not remembering her past prior to being shot in the head, the frumentarius reserved his doubts, so he had his fellow legionaries under guise of couriers dig up information. Upon further investigations, they found nothing of any relevance about her, no family, affiliation or such. Just a simple courier with the wrong delivery.

"I am tempted after such a speech," he smirked. "You are certainly making a name for yourself."

"I expected you to end that sentence with profligate or dissolute," she lightly joked. "It has been a while since I was last called one."

The way she always collectedly jabbed back entertained him ever since they met in Nipton. While chilled by the sight of the crucifixions and bodies piled up in the flames, she agreed to bring his message to the NCR under pretext that she was after all a courier and because the winner of his lottery had ran past her right into a giant radscorpion's grasp. It would have indeed, been a waste after all the efforts he had put into that plan.

"If you would indulge me soldier, what is the forecast for the Mojave?" she spoke warmly, gripping tighter the flag around her shoulder not to lose it to a gust of wind.

"I can't disclose such information, but as you may suspect from the time you spent with the tribe and from speaking to Karl," Vulpes began. "The Khans will be assimilated. Those who object will be killed, along the elderly and sick. Their women will be taken and sold to ranking officers as wives. They will need some for their new home in Vegas."

Her faint smile hid sympathy. The frumentarius discarded it as emotional weakness rather than fealty regret. She had been loyal and instrumental to the Legion, particularly in frumentarii's operations. She did not falter even when the NCR put a price on her head after helping Picus blow up the monorail. She even accidently ended up working with the Omertas during Operation Racket. They both only learned of each other's involvement in it at the very end, which they had a good laugh about.

They finally reached the frumentarii's camp, where his subordinates were gathered around the fire, partaking in the feast being served by the slaves. It is only when he smelled the cooking brahmin's meat that Vulpes realized his hunger. He had not eaten since morning, after the men were sent out to Hoover Dam. Noticing how he instinctively was about to go check on his fellow men, Six motioned for him to go ahead. His eyes set on Cato, who sat with a young female slave on his laps, serving him mutfruits. Indifferent to the fact the man was also hands deep under her rags, Vulpes stepped towards him and only got his attention the moment the slave noticed him.

"What - Oh, Inculta!" he cheered. "Have a seat, brother. More slaves are on their way - New ones, ripe to your liking."

Only then did the courier step out of the fox's shadow. She had no reaction whatsoever, but a modest smile. Six knew not to step out of bound in the presence of that many legionaries, even after the role she had played. The awkwards salutes, she took as them not being conditioned to usually reacting to a woman in a military camp that way. She tried not to let her gaze wander to the legionaries taking away slaves and captures as they spoke. One didn't even bother finding some privacy, taking a pinned down young woman between two tents.

But Cato wasn't wrong. The fox had a preference for profligates and dissolutes. His own pleasure stemmed from actually teaching them a lesson. Many frumentarii felt the same. The thrill of the unsuspected predator falling on his prey.

"I would gladly, but I've got matters to attend to," said Vulpes, cutting the small talk. "I'll join in after escorting our guest to her quarters."

"...The courier? Yes. You aim high as always, amicus! That wicked tongue of yours managed to convince Caesar to make her your slave? Or just a one time prize to claim?"

"Thank you for thinking this highly of my abilities Hostilius, but no. If you would excuse us -"

"Of course. Be warned, don't let her sneak on you like she did Kimball."

Cato had en enviable first seat at the assassination. Apparently, Six had waited for the president to finish the part of his speech about drawing the line for the Legion before clubbing him behind the head with the golden eagle, with the help of a stealth boy. One clean hit, one clear message. Maybe he did start rubbing off on her. Six meekly waved the man goodbye out of sheer politeness and followed in the fox's footsteps as they ventured further into the camp. With the corner of his eye, he watched her attentively as she flickered the coin, pensive. He did not catch which side it fell on, neither questioned what she had just gambled on. Quite frankly, he fancied leaving her a certain air of mystery. As long as she doesn't wager their common interests, he could spare her privacy over her superstitions.

Once they reached her tent, he pulled one of the flap to allow her entry. She complied, stepping inside to discover her rather tidy quarters slaves made a good work on. Up until now, she never spent a night in camp, even though she had Caesar's mark. But it was fitting to spare her a tent with the frumentarii for the aftermath of the battle. She belonged to the Legion now and was to be kept close. While the legionaries were quick on eying her, after tonight's ceremonies, none would be foolish enough to attempt anything. But a reminder never hurts, hence the reason to have her accompanied by the spies leader. There were no luxuries to be found in her quarters, nor did she appear to expect any in a military camp. A plain bowl of pinyon nuts and fresh fruits sat in the middle of the small table upon entrance. Behind it, was her makeshift bed. A few linens were placed on it and a small wooden basin filled with water was left for her on the ground. In fact, she looked joyfully at the basic amenity that would allow her to wash any fluids, hers or not, that smeared her body. She scampered past the table, unwrapped her filthy scarf off her neck and threw it on one of the chairs. She was more gentle discarding the flag on her shoulders. Vulpes raised a brow as she sat on the ground by the basin, undid her knotted sidebun and just dipped her head upside down in the thing for a good five seconds. Her hair whiplashed some water all the way across to him when she finally, but rapidly lifted her it back up. She began rubbing her face with one of the dried linen, soiling it with any blood that was left on her skin.

"I do not wish to abstain you from the festivities," she lightly spoke, her attention back on him. "You should go and... Enjoy yourself too."

Since he still stood at the entrance and held the flap partially opened, he turned to see what her sight dwelt on. In the distance, a tent displayed quite a show of shadows from the lights within. From what they could see, a man stood up with a woman on her knees in front of him, as his hand guided her in a back and forth motion.

"You did invite them to celebrate," Vulpes mentioned, not budging.

"Pretty sure they would have done it regardless," she acknowledged passively. "Do come in if you wish, just let the fly fall."

"Here I thought you enjoyed that sort of demonstration, courier."

But he obliged, stepping inside and hungrily inspected the bowl of food, trailing his finger around its edge.

"If you are talking about that one time at Gomorrah," she remarked. "You would agree nothing yells suspicious like a stone cold sober patron with pockets full of caps, not spending any on gambling or other pleasures."

"You are avoiding the question," he baited her. "Did you just look, or did you partake?"

"Go ahead and eat, Vulpes. If you have any table manners I won't have any questions to answer."

Vulpes grinned and gladly toke a handful of pinyon nuts. Cato did not lie about profligates and dissolutes being a good source of entertainment for him. Especially when it came to interrogating them and punish them. By principle, she wasn't one any longer. She had been exemplary and dutiful, but it was obvious part of her would still need a bit of nudging to fully adapt to the new reality she fought for of her own volition.

"Do you mind if I turn on the radio?" she asked, getting up and undoing the pip boy from her wrist.

"Suit yourself," he said as he bit down in a pear.

The legionary masticated slower as he caught glimpse that her wet hair started dripping onto her tank top. Her undergarment slightly revealed itself through the damp fabric. He peered so indiscreetly, the courier had to be aware. Not as if he was ashamed of it either. Six settled her piece of old world technology on the table, tuning in to the song of Blue Moon. Probably unsure of how this would be perceived in a Legion's camp, she lowered the volume considerably.

"Even after the Legion will have scoured Vegas," she trailed off. "I bet the Mojave Music Radio station will still be playing. No idea where that signal comes from."

"Neither why stealing from the NCR makes people my bitch," he added with amusement.

"Now that you mention it... Promise to keep me one of these posters of yours. I don't know what they were thinking when they made them."

These were plastered all over the damn place, yet they never hindered the spy's activities on the Strip.

"So what was your first impression of the Legate?"

The question caught her off guard. Six sat first, followed by her guest who was intent on knowing. She looked away for a moment, searching for the right words.

"The Legate? Impressive... For the lack of a better word."

One of her fingers taped nervously against the wooden table. Her agitation was coming back, despite looking so tranquil. She looked so dignified whenever she was lost in her thoughts. The way her hair fell delicately on her soft features would have most men overlook her servile but ruthless nature. Caesar chose right to have her profile melted on a coin.

"I have heard he blinds his slaves and makes sacrifices to Mars," she continued. "The stories about him differed depending on who I asked. Some say he's not even the same man, hence the mask. In the end, he is a symbol."

The Monster of the East was known to indulge in the latter. The frumentarius had his own intel on the man, but none too conclusive. Her conclusions reflected the many rumors but, his favorite one, few dared to speak it.

"None of his female slaves last very long," Vulpes added. "He has not taken a wife yet either, while many ranking officers did. You can do the maths."

"...He can't father children?" she mumbled. "Legionaries have children quotas. You keep ledgers for slaves. I would believe you keep track of these too."

"We do, his name? Nowhere to be seen," Inculta nodded. "But I would keep that to myself, courier. That suspicion is mine to affirm. For the day Caesar dies, if no one takes down the beast first. My last words, should he choose drastic measures for me and my men. I'll gladly accept a fate worst than death for the pleasure of divulging it."

Six seemed quite perplexed by that information. Vulpes sighed at such an unacceptable behavior. Actually, it was reprehensible. She was a woman but she had a standard to live up.

"You were shaking back then. I take it it was your first actual battle?"

His tone was firmer, authoritative. Unconsciously, she straightened up and answered spontaneously.

"I've taken lives, but it was more personal. I was not ready for the chaos of a battlefield..." she recognized. "No, this was the last time I fought for Caesar."

He shifted in his seat, leaning back and waiting for a physical clue on her part. It could only mean one of two things. Treason or defeat. Neither were a valid option.

"It's a vicious cycle isn't it? When I look at these men, you... I see boys raised to be soldiers. Torn from their raped, enslaved and slaughtered mothers, sisters and friends. Boys robbed from their childhood, first loves and given false paternal figures to look up to. Only to perpetuate that very cycle."

Her voice although serene, stung with the cold truth.

"I see men with nothing but rage left in them, all aimed at whoever Caesar chooses. Violence is all they were taught. Slaves of a different kind. Their only freedom? To fight and die for their master."

The sincere torn look she gave him displeased him. She couldn't allow herself to fall down the rabbit hole now that she had climbed so high.

"We have no need for despondent or guilt-ridden individuals," he explained. "I would advise you the same. You have a responsibility to the Legion now."

His expression was one of pure disappointment. When in reality, it wasn't meant for her, but Caesar himself for actually going against his own philosophy by risking her usefulness to their nation. Still, she had lived up to the challenge, but at what cost? If the second Legion symbol had no fight left in her... Perhaps the son of Mars had deliberately done so and planned something different for her.

"Do you remember yesterday, before I left for the Legate's camp? When Caesar and I spoke privately?" she inquired.

"I do," he recalled. "No need to disclose anything, I'll find on my own in due time, courier."

As he does best. She approved with a forced smile.

"If I crawl back into my grave, can you shovel the dirt back in?"

Vulpes face darkened. He was accustomed to secrecy, but didn't enjoy not being the bearer of the element of surprise.

"What did you do, Six?" he asked coldly.

"I told him the truth," she stated. "A woman fighting for the Legion? It can't last forever, nor do I want to. Unless I risk giving the slaves and women the wrong idea. I've had my revenge and now that the dam is won? I am no longer of service. No, I did not ask Caesar what I knew he wouldn't give me, the right to walk away. So then, tell me amicus, in what way can I still be useful to the Legion?"

It was an invitation to guess. She confirmed his doubt shortly.

"So I offered myself as a wife to the officer of his liking."

Needless to say he was confounded and assumed Caesar must have been the same.

"I'll admit I am impressed that you would put yourself in such a position," Vulpes commented. "From my personal experience with women in the wasteland, I find it hard to believe any would willingly agree to that, even less propose the deal. You really are something, courier."

"So I live up to your staunch standard?" she wondered. "Caesar actually admitted thinking the same, that he also did intend to offer me as a gift. But only after securing the rest of the Mojave."

The hint of a smile she quickly withdrew did not evade the frumentarius. So that was her plan, to sell herself as a wife to the Legion. Odd, to say the least. The men would be thrilled. Vulpes wouldn't blame them, especially after the lasting impression she had made tonight in front of the troops and the commendations Caesar gave her. To have such an esteemed woman waiting for them in bed, bearing them sons...

"Some would eagerly throw themselves in the arena to claim you as a reward," the fox professed.

"Too bad they're all too valuable to pit themselves against each others to fight to the death," she noted. "Would be quite romantic to be proposed to with a severed head."

Vulpes gave her that look, reminding her she might have just done so herself earlier.

"Lanius did the beheading, so technically he was the one proposing to Caesar," she signified, also recalling the irony. "Do I look like someone with the strength to cleave cleanly like that?"

"You don't," he affirmed, entertained by the scenario. "So that's how you want to be proposed to? Too bad Benny's body has been burned, then. So... Considering the prospect, why would I have to bury you back in your grave? Who's the lucky one?"

"Caesar gave me the choice, believe it or not."

Plenty of officers names came to his mind. Many of them justified why she would be so nervous. You don't survive your way to the higher ranks without developing a penchant for some form of cruelty. That much she must have known. Vulpes suddenly remembered a centurion who had a taste for public humiliation. He would be the first to defile the captures and then allow his men their turn while watching. Some just try their best to camouflage their leaning. Considering the ban on homosexuality, but its acceptance as a mean to subdue and traumatize the enemy, one officer jumped at any occasions to use these 'tactics'. Albeit things differ when it comes to Legion wives, it's left to each man's discretion what happens at home. Inculta's thoughts were abruptly brought to an halt when Six revealed her options.

"It's you or Lanius."

He did qualify for the offer as the leader of the frumentarii. Her delivery was not a plea, but all things considered, it should have been. The irony of being given a second bullet against the man who despises him so much. He visualized Lanius learning he fell second to the one he was in contention with. Only that in itself was a convincing motive. The Legate is the strategic option, to unite both his symbols and should the rumor prove untrue, provide the Legion with unparalleled heirs. Upon further reflection, Caesar had probably chosen him as the second option for his central role in gaining an advantage on the Mojave campaign. He suspected a sentimental reason as well, having sort of being taken under his wing and earning his place as the leader of the misconceived unit, but disregarded it. The fact he had worked so closely with her might have had an impact on his decision, knowing he would be diligent with their first feminine symbol. It would after all be in the Legion's best interest that she is tamed and not broken.

They observed each other from their end of the table in complete silence.

"Should you accept," she noted cordially. "Caesar said to consider it as a payment for your services... And mine, for saving his life."

She did soak a monumental amount of radiation and faced countless abominations to retrieve the missing piece for the auto-doc, thus saving their founder's life. Then again, Mars had blessed them both for such an operation to be successful.

"Should you not, and I mean it, really... Have no worries. I crawled out of my grave once, why not a second?" she questioned with the same sincerity. "I would deserve the Legate, call it a divine intervention in a way. Joshua Gra - The Burned Man would approve. I wouldn't be Caesar's only ghost. Every battle for Hoover Dam would be an official curse for one of his subordinate."

Vulpes had kept confidential the fact that she had met with the Burned Man in Zion, since it would put her at risk and would serve no one, only create distrust for Caesar's words. Should suspicion arise from the pistol the man had left her, they could still play out the scenario of taking it off his corpse.

Since some legionaries were passing close outside the tent, he motioned her with a finger to be quiet and stopped the radio on her pip boy. She did not object and they waited for the group to be gone.

"I have no fear you would survive Lanius. Against all odds, you are still breathing Six," praised the frumentarius. "Congratulations are in order."

"My silver tongue can only get me out of trouble for so long," she responded. "Hopefully I wouldn't tire him from talking philosophy too much. Although he seems the kind to enjoy it."

"I'd sooner wish you a good death in battle, trying to find your way back to the grave. Not a profligate's meaningless death."

"I'll take that as a compliment, coming from a legionary."

His dastardly smile educed an impious laughter from her, seemingly impervious to her fate now. Humor was an efficient coping mechanism. An high pitch howl crawled under their skin, making them both jump in their seat. Upon realization it was nothing but a very enthusiastic soldier, they brushed it off and were brought back to the moment. Six slowly rose from her seat, followed by Vulpes.

"I've held you long enough," she said cordially. "Enjoy the celebrations, victory is also yours."

With her hand, she considerately gestured him the exit. By now, Cato had probably forgotten him and had more than his hands under the slave's rags. Or he had rightfully assumed his superior wouldn't be leaving the courier's tent tonight. Vulpes mind was set. After all, he had done rasher things in the name of ambition.

"Have you spoken to Lanius about this?"

"No," Six declared. "I will after New Vegas falls under the bull."

"There will be no need to."

He was by no mean an affectionate person, his training saw to that long ago. But the concept was not alien nor was he devoid of consideration due to the nature of his work. He toke off his gloves, one after the other and laid them mindfully on the table. He then began undoing his cuirass, settling it on the seat back of the chair along with his shoulder plates. The courier examined him during the whole process. She couldn't conceal the interest in her gaze. The only time she had seen him in simple clothing was on the Strip. Her eyes only met his after he walked over to her and tilted her head up. There was a glow in them that gave out how she had warmed up to him. She looked collected and comely as always.

"Since I can't make you a frumentarius, I'll have to claim you as my wife."

Her hand gently traced its way up to his wrist to release her chin from his touch.

"If you are doing this out of pity, for duty or simply to insult Lanius..." she spoke plainly. "Then don't. I don't expect any romanticism. I am ready to live with the consequences of my actions."

"I would not dare insult you that way," Vulpes affirmed. "But since we already have a fruitful partnership, we might as well add to the list of benefits."

"So this is a mutual agreement."

"You do know what this entails?"

"I believe I do, no need for support to keep me pinned down."

They had not spoken of that occurrence since it happened. On his way back from an undercover assignment, a female NCR soldier tracked him down. Alone. She was probably quite fresh and wanted the feat of capturing one of the most wanted men of the Legion. A careless and fatal error on her part. He did congratulate her for seeing through his masquerade when he lured her to a Legion's safehouse. Where apparently Mars saw fit again for the courier to cross path with him, as she was there with Atticus. They captured the soldier without much of an hassle. To find out if she was actually on a mission, if his cover had been blown or if more NCR operatives were to come knocking, they had to make her talk. Six insisted on persuading her to, knowing she would have to put a bullet in her skull anyway after so she wouldn't go rat out to her superior. No threats of what would await her at a Legion camp made her spill anything surprisingly, considering the courier's way with words. The NCR soldier then proceeded to violently headbutt her, nearly knocking her out. With her previous medical history of head trauma, Six had crawled out of the room, unable to stand up without getting vertigo. After making sure to sit her against the wall to let it stabilize, Vulpes and Atticus toke over the interrogation and acted upon their companion's threat. Met with resistance, he assisted his fellow legionary in having his way.

Six knew how horrible of an individual he was since the day they met. So she knew that like his peers, he had obviously participated in rapes as they conquered tribes to weaken moral. But she had never seen it firsthand. While he wasn't the one that defiled her, he still tortured and killed the woman after learning no one was coming for her anyway. After the act, when the courier was able to stand on her own, she did not address him if not talked to for a while, understandably wavered by what she had witnessed. Probably one of the many things she had a hand in that still haunted her to this day.

"I don't expect you to trust me," Vulpes muttered comprehensibly. "But you will still have to obey and follow me."

"Trust a man whose expertise are lies and deceit?" she retorted amiably. "I would need to reevaluate the brain damage. And I know, I signed up for it."

The courier's hands leisurely travelled up his arms, over his leather bands to his collarbone, her soothing touch massaging him along the way. One smoothly went up his neck, sending a pleasant shiver down his spine. She slid her fingers through his short dark hairs. He indulged her curiosity, following her gaze as it explored his body with this newfound proximity. The young man was no stranger to his charms and knew how to use them. His sharp facial features, accentuated by his icy blue eyes carried weight with female contacts. The Legion's regimen also had its effects on the body, which did not elude her either. She was about to experience it.

"Vulpes-"

She gasped as he forced her against the table, pinning both her hands down with his own to her sides. Being pressed further, she sat on the edge and freed her legs from the lack of space by spreading them, inadvertently letting the soldier closer. He leaned in until their lips barely touched, eying her like game. The hint of doubt on her face would soon transform into excitement and desire. By the end of the night, she would crave him and be entirely his.

"Not all legionaries are inept to a woman's pleasure in bed, Six." He mumbled as he kissed his way down her neck, nipping and sucking. "And while you avoided my question earlier... I'll remind you I know yours."

Her heart pounded faster to each of his words as he got closer to her cleavage, obstructed by her clothes. Vulpes let go of her hands and toke a step back. Unsure of his intentions, she did not budge.

"Listen," he ordered huskily, motioning for silence.

Faint sounds of skin slamming on skin rang in their ears, coming from a nearby tent. Her expression betrayed her. As he had known from previously, she toke no pleasure from another female not having any.

"You'll have to settle for this tonight, until you meet more officers and their wives."

"Is there something I should know about Flagstaff then?" Six nitpicked. "You make it sound like an awful lot of 'degenerate' things happen."

"Nothing is 'degenerate' as long as it leads to providing the Legion with more children."

Puzzled by the blunt answer and unadmittedly curious, she couldn't muster a reply.

"You will love the social gatherings," Vulpes teased. "Can't indulge you more for now. Unless..."

He shot a quick glance at the tent's flaps, leading her on to his intentions.

"If you don't object," she advanced. "I'll settle for a bit more intimacy on our first night together. As far as it goes by Legion standards."

"Already forgot you have to comply to my wishes?" the frumentarius commented. "I'll disregard it, just this time."

"So considerate..."

"Don't speak too eagerly, dear."

The slight distance between them closed again as both his hands settled on her hips as she still sat on the edge of the table, gripping them tightly. The courier was startled by being suddenly pulled towards him, their lower bodies colliding. Vulpes closed in on her, their lips brushing under his heated stare. She waited patiently for him to take the lead. Her invitation was denied with a mischievous smirk. Instead, he went straight for her belt, which he unbuckled and slipped out entirely to throw it to the ground in one swift motion. The jeans were next. Six lifted herself up for a second, probably in fear he would rip them off her back otherwise. Not that she would be wearing them often as a legionary's wife. But he would allow her the souvenir.

"Don't be shy now," he taunted her. "Not after all we've been through together."

She was evidently not, her expression barely changed as she reached for the hem of her tank top and toke it off. Exposed, with only her underwears left, she tugged intently at his tunic, her hand slightly travelling downward. The smile on her face stirred him up. On numerous occasions he had been with willing women when undercover. But these instances were all for him, the means to an end. As for the unwilling ones, a way to get rid of tension. So he pondered for a second as her hand softly felt the tension building up in his groin through the fabric, what else he would gain from this alliance. Aside the temporary gratification of robbing Lanius from his prize... Considering how the frumentarii's work was valuable but still infamous within the Legion itself, she might just end up being a poisonous gift. The thought of being the first legionary standing in the shadow of his wife was displeasing. But she was after all forthright enough in her dealings, she wouldn't do anything to undermine him, not after this favor.

"Vulpes?" she whispered, with sudden worry and compassion in her voice.

The man snapped out of his distracting thoughts, her two hands cupping his face tenderly. The courier has been nothing less than loyal and honorable by their terms, he had to come to terms with it and drop the suspicions he was inclined to come up with out of occupational hazard. But he did find her consideration amusing, albeit witnessing first hand his ministrations.

His hands reached in her back and worked on her bra's clasps, revealing her breasts under the dim light of the tent. Her nipples were not indifferent to the cool night air, nor to the heat that was swelling up insider her. She wasn't oblivious to his own excitment poking at her tighs either. Even at his mercy, she did not shy away and remained as composed and captivating as she had been in front of the crowd. His eyes explored her body, discovering new scars. Rare are those who had none in the wasteland. But he didn't expect to see one of surgical precision across her heart. She gently seized the finger he slowly trailed on the mark, guiding it towards her back, to feel a similar one down the length of her spine. Vulpes raised his brow, having never taken notice of these prior due to her clothes and not surprised either that she wouldn't have brought them up. These were clearly not wounds but outcomes of medical interventions. She had clearly gone through a lot. He started to think even if he did try, he wouldn't be able to break her. Their eyes met, which she could have misinterpreted as worries, but she knew better.

"Don't approach that drive-in in Nipton," she explained. "Although your business there has been since long concluded."

Later, he would learn what exactly she meant by that. All little secrets she might have. For now, this was all trivial to the task at hand. His prize was waiting to be claimed.

"Now, courier..." he caressed her breast lightly. "Let's see if you really know what you signed up for."

Six gasped in surprise when the frumentarius leaned in briskly, pressing his toned chest against her bare body through his tunic. They shared an intense stare before he drew her into an heated and possessive kiss. The bowl and food it contained was abruptly tossed to the ground. Only when they had to catch their breath did their lips part. Vulpes laid a hand on the courier's abdomen, roughly pushing her to lie down on the table. It remained there, keeping her in this position as the other one ventured back down between her legs. She shivered as he slipped two fingers inside her underwear, nudging at her sensitive nub. A slight smirk crawled on his face at her apparent yearning. Her receptiveness reminded him of the priestesses of Mars, whenever legionaries were allowed access to them... Had she been born or taken in as young as he was, she could have filled that role perfectly.

Seeing her lips part with inaudible moans, the frumentarius taunted her a bit further, slipping a finger in occasionally before going back to circling her clit. Words wanted to come out of her mouth, but didn't. So he added a second finger the next time. She was delightfully wet and his member fully erect and aching by now. The rather loud orgasm of the legionary in the next tent didn't help, urging them on. In this small instance, she caught him off guard and sat up, lifting the tunic he still wore off his back. He let her discard it and embrace him into another eager and longing kiss, consciously brushing herself against his hardness. Her hands didn't mind the many scars on his back, which she already saw and knew he had earned for disobedience as a decanus, which led him straight to his promotion instead of the cross. He shifted to free himself of his shorts, forcing her to bring both her hands back on the table to balance herself. Next was her underwear, which he removed hastily and still hung onto her foot as he positioned his bare erection at her entrance.

No words were exchanged, only a quick glance. Gripping fervently her hips, Vulpes pulled Six onto him, penetrating her effortlessly. A faint groan slipped out of him as he buried himself deeper, her walls stretching to accommodate him. She rocked her head back at his intrusion, pressing him on with such a pleasing sight. The legionary slid in and out again, gaining a steady rythm. Her wait hair flew freely, slapping against her back, the noise blending in with the one of his cock plunging inside her repeatedly. He focused on the motion of her breasts, her irregular breathing...

"Vulpes, please..."

He laughed inwardly. What a good wife, already sweetly asking for his touch. He obliged, lusting for her surrender. He didn't want to rush his claim, but both were blissfully close. Vulpes uninterruptedly fondled her clit while also relishing each of his thrusts. He resisted the urge to give in until her walls clenched around his member and she called his name once more, her body trembling as she orgasmed. A few more erratic thrusts and he came himself deep inside her. He leaned forward on the table, hovering her, both of them panting. In their afterglow, they studied each other in silence. At least, until Six saw something from the corner of her eyes and reached for the bull's flag on one of the chairs to humbly cover herself.

"Yes?" Vulpes demanded, without even looking.

"Caesar requires your presence, frumentarius."

Inculta gestured the messenger that he would be on his way. Apparently planning their assault on New Vegas couldn't wait until morning. The man disappeared as soon as his task was done, leaving Vulpes to wonder how long he might have stood outside the tent. He probably even waited for him to finish. Like anyone, the spy always welcomed a little privacy. But as Six had witnessed earlier, he could also easily discard the concept like his fellow legionaries.

"This will require some adaptation on my end," the courier joked lightly, her eyes still set on the entrance of her tent.

"Considering the frequency and hours at which I am requested, you will..." Vulpes sighed while dressing back up.

He stopped dead in his tract when he got to his gloves, basking for a slight second at how fine she looked with her shoulders exposed, while her entire body was covered by the flag.

"A fellow courier once told me no matter what," she said in contemplation. "To wear the flag I chose proudly."

"Do you?" Vulpes questioned earnestly.

Her silence answered better than any words could.

"Just keep your head high, Six. It will be easier someday."

"Two persons shaped by circumstances. A fucking mailman and a boy from an unimportant tribe. How long did it take for you? For it to become easier?"

"I was young. I can't really remember," Vulpes responded shortly with a smile. "But one head trauma is enough, don't seek another to remedy to your guilt."

"Caesar looks up to you, you know?"

The frumentarius eyed her oddly as he put the rest of his armor on, waiting for her to get to the point.

"More than he does Lanius," she added. "It's apparent that he needs the Legate for fear and expansion. But I wouldn't trust the guy not to raze the last farm in the wastes, so even less with the needs of a civilization. Give him a few years and I bet that you will become his successor."

"Courier..." Vulpes scoffed. "Prying and plotting is my job, you would do well to remember that."

"Couldn't help it. Given, for a tyrant, he does like to exchange pleasantries. But from what I dug up, few had the privilege to be taught by him directly and have access to his personal library, especially at such a young age. Just watch out for the Legate's wrath, though. From what I've heard I doubt he would follow any orders coming from you."

He gave her one last but mindful warning look, so she just feigned innocence.

"Have no worries, I'll be a good Legion's wife. You will get your baby quota, your priority will remain your duty to Caesar and I won't get too attached to a kid that will be sent off to training..." she managed to crack with heavy sarcasm. "That way I won't have to explain to them that I met their father down an aisle of crucifixion."

"Go to bed Six," he insisted. "Caesar certainly has plans for you, at least until we get a firm hold on the Mojave. You will most likely be summoned in the morning."

The courier nodded and waved him goodbye as he exited her tent. On his way, he couldn't help but ponder on her observations. Thoughts he had himself in the past but didn't make too much of it, considering the likely hood of survival most legionaries had especially in such an expansion campaign. But with the prospect of more stable times... He laughed to himself, Six being so blunt and transparent about earning a place by his side, even if in his shadow. Caesar was cured of his ailment now, thanks to her, but no one lives forever, not even the son of Mars. No civilization ever remained the same with each ruler and each generation. Was it her way to repent? Getting in a position more likely to bring some changes on the long run? It was most likely not going to happen at least not drastically in her lifetime. But perhaps she was willing to lay down the path even if she wouldn't see the results. It was in itself, quite genuine to their teachings. The men found brothers and new homes from those that they were torn from. Their allegiance goes beyond Caesar, although they just don't see or dare admit it yet. The same applied to the slaves and women amongst themselves. It would be foolish to think the apparatus would be the same in a century, if it still held.

"Hail."

The praetorian saluted back, allowing him to go back to Caesar's side. No, even if he still drew breath by the end of this campaign, due to their nature, his obligations would never end. At least he would have gained the best match he could have hoped for.


End file.
